Wet Dreams and Fantasies
INTERMISSION
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Desiree Holt
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by Desiree Holt
Dedication
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To Michele, editor par excellence
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by Desiree Holt
Chapter One
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Rain had been scarce for so long that the entire state was
approaching drought conditions. Lisa Graham, looking at a
perfect cerulean sky through her office window, sympathised
with the people who were nurturing lawns or raising cattle.
They certainly needed the rain. But not as desperately as she
did. Six weeks without a drop of moisture and she was so
horny she could get herself off just by rubbing her cunt back
and forth on the seat of her office chair.
It was the damn bar. Or pub. Or whatever a place like
Interlude called itself. She'd taken refuge there during a
stormy night when her car was in the shop and cabs were
scarce. All she'd been looking for was a drink or two to take
the edge off her nerves after a piss-poor day. Instead, she'd
found the sexiest stranger who was pure sin walking and
found herself having sex in public.
Something had happened to her that night, almost as if a
stranger had entered her body. A powerful lust that
apparently had been buried deep inside her all these years
had burst forth like a raging beast, consuming her, until now
it seemed it occupied her every waking moment. And many of
her dreams, as well.
Even now as she thought about it, a flush consumed her
body and she had to fan her face. Oh, the very naughty
things they'd done, she and sexy Mark. She thought of the
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waiter who'd once joined them, and another wave of heat
rolled over her. Then, on the only subsequent visit to
Interlude, Mark and Damon, the owner, had taken her into
the very private back room where she'd indulged in erotic
fantasies she hadn't even known lived at the back of her
mind.
But damn! The fucking place only showed up when it
rained. And how weird was that?
The day after her first visit, she'd gone back there to
retrieve her umbrella, only to find herself in a noisy bar called
Danny's Pub. Nothing like the place she'd been in the night
before. Interlude was a dimly lit place with curtained booths,
barely audible music and people enjoying each other in
various sexual activities without any apparent inhibitions—the
same thing she'd done, mesmerised by Mark, his voice and
his touch. Stranger still, when she'd asked the people in
Danny's Pub about Interlude, no one seemed to know what
the hell she was talking about, nor could she find her
umbrella.
But the umbrella now stood in a corner of her office,
delivered with a note that said, "See you when it rains again."
And that had led to the night in the private room. But damn
it, since then, not a drop of rain, no matter how many coins
she tossed in the fountain in the lobby of her building. And no
sign of Mark.
She looked at her watch. Four o'clock. She had work that
needed her attention, but it was impossible to concentrate.
Not when she needed an orgasm so badly. Maybe she'd pop
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down to Danny's Pub and see if, by any odd chance, Interlude
might have shown up again, despite the dry spell.
"Cutting out early?" her secretary asked, looking up from
her desk.
Lisa hefted the briefcase in her hand, justifying her early
departure. "Going to work from home."
Liar!
"Oh. Well, shall I hold your calls or forward them to you?"
"Hold them," Lisa told her. "One reason I'm leaving is to
get away from the phones."
Liar, liar, pants on fire !
"Okay, then. See you tomorrow."
Lisa tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the
elevator then drummed her fingers on her briefcase as they
seemed to stop at nearly every floor on its way down. At last,
they reached the lobby, and she literally pushed her way out
of the group of passengers. Her heels clicked on the
Michele Hauf
Jacqueline Pearce
LS Silverii
Nathan Lowell
Christi Caldwell
Sophia Hampton
Adele Downs
Thomas Berger
Ellery Queen
Tara Brown writing as A.E. Watson